


On a blanket under the stars

by ravenbringslight



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bittersweet, Blood, Blow Jobs, Bottom Loki (Marvel), Bottom Thor (Marvel), Camping, Companionable Snark, First Time, Hand Jobs, I mean it is a hunting trip, Intercrural Sex, Loki Feels, M/M, Minor Violence, Norse Bro Feels, Pre-Thor (2011), Recreational Drug Use, Romantic Fluff, Sibling Incest, Switching, Teen Romance, Tiny bit of Angst, because it's Loki, hunting trips, that boy can't do anything without overthinking it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 13:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11556369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenbringslight/pseuds/ravenbringslight
Summary: They had shared a few fumbling kisses, it was true - and Loki had hoped that when Thor suggested this trip that he meant for them to be alone together to share a few more - but his older brother had given no indication since arriving on Vanaheim that this trip was anything other than what he said it was. A hunting trip. Nevermind the way he had touched Loki’s thigh under the table…“You’re not usually so quiet,” Thor said.“I’m thinking.”“Stop thinking,” Thor suggested, and reached down to scoop up a handful of water.That he threw right at Loki’s face.





	On a blanket under the stars

**Author's Note:**

> I know I should be writing a million other things, but here, have this. I made it for you in one afternoon in a fit of passion. I hope you enjoy it. :)

When Thor had suggested over breakfast that perhaps he and Loki should go on a hunting trip, Loki’s stomach did a flip. He had taken a long pull from his cider to hide his nervousness and eyed their mother over the rim of his goblet.

“I don’t see any reason why not,” she had said.

“You should take The Warriors Three with you,” the Allfather had suggested. “You could all stand to blow off a little steam before the ceremony next week.”

“No father, I think that Loki and I should go alone,” Thor had said, maybe too quickly.

“As you say,” Odin had said absently, clearly already dismissing them, while Loki breathed an internal sigh of relief.

“I don’t see why you have to drag me along with you.” Loki’s tone had been irritable, but his foot nudged Thor’s under the table and Thor’s fingers brushed featherlight against his thigh.

And now here they were, alone together, hundreds of leagues from anywhere. Heimdall had deposited them somewhere on Vanaheim on the crown of a grassy hill covered in wildflowers and bees. More lush hills rolled away to either side of them, dotted with stands of tall hardwood, and in the distance a denser wood beckoned them with promises of boar and white-tailed deer.

“We should try to find a stream,” Thor said, squaring his pack, and Loki looked over at him. He raked his eyes over Thor’s bare arms, his wind-tousled hair, the strong line of his jaw. Excitement lit deep in his belly.

“Yes,” Loki said. Thor looked at him quizzically, probably expecting Loki to argue as he usually did, but Loki offered him only a small tight lipped smile in return. His nerves wouldn’t allow for anything more.

They picked their way down the hillside, wading through the sea of flowers and collecting pollen on their own legs like overgrown bumblebees. The fragrance was exquisite. Loki lagged slightly behind, content this time to let Thor take the lead. The sunlight felt almost tangible, the air made of liquid gold, of mead and honey, and it caught in Thor’s hair like a gleaming halo.

Thor turned back to say something, but his face lit in a smile instead.

“What?” Loki said suspiciously.

“You made a friend,” Thor said, pointing at Loki’s hair. Loki glanced down to where Thor was pointing and saw a butterfly resting there; his hand came up involuntarily and the butterfly flitted away.

“I was just going to say,” Thor said, “I’m fairly certain there’s a stream over that hill. We should stop to eat once we get there.”

There was indeed a stream, bounded on both sides by weeping willow and aquatic grass and cool river clay. They removed their boots and ate sitting on a wide log that had fallen halfway across the water, letting the current carry the weariness from their feet.

Out of the corner of his eye, Loki watched Thor’s throat work as he swallowed. He wanted to press his lips there, but doubt held him back.

They had shared a few fumbling kisses, it was true - and Loki had hoped that when Thor suggested this trip that he meant for them to be alone together to share a few more - but his older brother had given no indication since arriving on Vanaheim that this trip was anything other than what he said it was. A hunting trip. Nevermind the way he had touched Loki’s thigh under the table…

“You’re not usually so quiet,” Thor said.

“I’m thinking.”

“Stop thinking,” Thor suggested, and reached down to scoop up a handful of water.

That he threw right at Loki’s face.

Loki squawked but Thor was laughing hysterically.

“You -”

But then Thor was splashing him again, and Loki shoved him so hard he fell into the river, but he reached up and grabbed Loki’s ankle before he could make it back to shore and then they were _both_ in the river, splashing and ducking each other with wild glee.

Afterwards they lay panting under the shade of a willow, dripping and mirthful.

“Can you magic us dry?” Thor asked hopefully.

“Well, I can magic myself. You on the other hand...I’m not sure you deserve it.”

Loki smirked and with a wave of his hand his own clothes and hair were set instantly to rights. Thor gave him pitiful newborn pup eyes.

“Please?”

“I think I’ll let you squelch a bit,” Loki said, smiling, until Thor reached over and wrapped him in a very large, very wet hug.

“Fine, then you can squelch with me,” Thor laughed, pinning a squirming giggling Loki against him.

“Ugh, get off me you wretch, _fine_ , I’ll dry you off too.” Loki sighed with mock annoyance as he cleaned both of them up. “The things I do. You should be grateful you have me.”

“I am,” Thor said, smiling sunnily again, and Loki felt his insides melt just a little.

The river proved to be a reliable guide and they followed it as it wended its way towards the forest. The smooth current grew choppier and became small swirling rapids, broken up with boulders and short drops, the river banks steeper and more deeply gouged.

Thor drew up short.

“Look,” he said.

Loki stole up beside him and almost unconsciously slipped his hand into Thor’s; it felt so right he hardly took note of it. Thor was pointing to a rapid.

“There!” he said again, and Loki saw something flash in the sunlight.

It was a school of fish, as long as Thor’s arm and covered in shimmering iridescent scales, leaping their way through the river. They shone so brightly that when they burst free from the water each one cast sparkling rainbows through the spray.

“They’re beautiful,” Loki murmured. Thor squeezed his hand and brought it up to kiss his knuckles, and only then did Loki realize what he’d done. He felt his cheeks color.

“Like you,” Thor said, and by the time Loki had fully taken in the compliment Thor was already ten steps ahead down the river.

“Oaf,” he muttered to himself, more out of habit than anything else.

Afternoon’s warmth began to slowly fade into cool twilight. The sky put on a spectacular display for them, the fluffy white clouds from earlier now limned in rose and gold as the last rays of the sun caught them on its way down.

“That looks like a good camping spot.” Loki pointed to the top of a small rise. It was flat-ish and there was a stand of trees up there for cover, and most importantly it was well away from the river bank and the accompanying dampness. If there was one thing he hated more than anything, it was waking up in a puddle.

“Yes,” Thor agreed. “Let’s rest there. We should make it to the wood by an hour after breakfast tomorrow if we’re lucky.”

They set up camp with quiet efficiency. They’d both been going on hunting trips since they were small boys and they knew their way well around a campsite. Part of Loki’s silence was introspection; he kept thinking of Thor’s lips on his knuckles, Thor calling him beautiful, Thor in his bedchamber a week ago in the small hours of the morning kissing him goodnight after an evening of drinking and gaming…

Thor was laying their bedrolls out now while Loki got the fire started, and he was overanalyzing every move like usual - how far apart was Thor putting them? Would they sleep on opposite sides of the fire? The same side? _Right next to_ each other? Why was he giving Thor all the power in this? Being led along like some innocent lamb?

Right, then. He stood decisively and moved to where Thor was fussing with the blankets and hauled his own bedroll until it was no more than a handspan away from Thor’s. Thor looked up at him and Loki met his eyes as steadily as he could, daring him to say anything, but Thor just smiled that infuriating sunny smile of his.

“Guess what I brought?” Thor said. When Loki raised an eyebrow at him, he spread his hands wide. “Elfweed!” he announced happily. “Hogun won it off of a Light Elf last week and he won’t smoke it - he’s even more uptight than you are” - Thor waved off Loki’s token protest - “but he gave it to me.”

“Gave it?”

“Well, I bested him in arm wrestling.”

“Arm wrestling?”

“Ok, I took it from him.” Thor was laughing now, and Loki rolled his eyes.

“Oaf,” he muttered again.

“That’s me,” Thor grinned. “Should we eat and then smoke, or smoke and then eat?”

“If we smoke first it will make the eating even more enjoyable.”

The first hit burned, but the second and third and fourth went down as sweet as ember wine.

“Has hard tack ever tasted so good?” Thor nearly moaned. He was spread out across his bedroll like a starfish.

“You have crumbs all over your chest,” Loki said from his spot sitting next to Thor, giggling as he brushed them off. “Ohh, your tunic feels so soft.”

“Mm,” Thor agreed, chewing blissfully.

“No really.” Loki kept stroking the fabric, pulling it taut across Thor’s chest and then letting go over and over again, fascinated. He felt bubbly and light, effervescent almost.

“That feels nice,” Thor said. “Keep doing it.”

The fire popped and crackled, throwing whirling sparks up into the darkness.

“They look like little stars,” Thor said, waving his hand vaguely. “Lots of little shooting stars. We should make wishes.”

“You can’t wish on a fire, idiot.”

“Not fire. Starrrrs. Fire stars.”

Thor was giggling now and Loki felt happiness spreading through his chest. He was camping with his brother, and the day had been almost achingly beautiful, and now they were together in front of a fire laughing and touching and -

Thor turned his head and _looked_ at Loki, jewel bright eyes surrounded by a fan of dark lashes, intense and lovely, and he smiled and inched his head closer and then Loki leaned down and closed the gap and they were kissing.

Loki felt like he was melting, the edges of him running like paint with too much water in it, mixing into the bright pigment that made up Thor.

He made a little needy noise that he didn’t know his own throat was capable of and Thor reached an arm around the back of his neck and brought him impossibly closer, and they smiled against each other’s lips.

“I wanted to do that all day,” Thor whispered.

“Why didn’t you?” Loki said.

Thor didn’t answer, he just captured Loki’s mouth again. Loki let himself be drawn down to lay next to his brother and they explored each other’s faces and necks with lips and hands, with nuzzling noses and smooth cheeks and little breathless sighs.

Raising himself on one arm, Thor threw his leg over to straddle Loki’s hips and Loki helplessly arched up into the touch.

Thor groaned and buried his face in Loki’s neck.

“You feel so good,” he said, mouthing at the tendon there. “Too good.”

“Too good?” Loki said, his heart dropping a little. “Do you not want to…”

“Norns help me, I do,” Thor groaned, lifting his head to look into Loki’s eyes, bracketing Loki’s face with his hands. “I do.”

“Then do it,” Loki whispered. He felt something catch inside his chest. “Because I want it too.”

They kissed again, fiercely, almost a little desperately, messy tongues and nipping teeth and grappling hands. Thor pressed down into him and Loki pressed back and they moved together in a pantomime of what they wanted to do, but not yet, not yet, until with a drawn-out “ahhhh” Loki clutched Thor to him and spent inside his breeches, and Thor rutted against his thigh until he did the same.

Afterwards, Thor pillowed his head on Loki’s shoulder and Loki idly ran his fingers through that messy golden mane, staring into the fire.

“What are we now?” Loki asked softly.

“Brothers,” Thor said simply.

They moved their blankets together until they were touching and fell asleep curled around each other like they used to when they were children in the nursery.

Loki woke in the predawn light to the cheerful sound of birds and the not-so-cheerful fact that he was alone on the bedroll. The fire had long gone out and nothing remained but charcoal and ashes.

The ashes may as well have been in his mouth as the sickening realization came over him. Thor was gone. The elfweed had lowered their inhibitions last night and in the cold light of day Thor had turned tail and fled. Loki blinked back tears.

A twig snapping made him jump and he twisted around to see Thor, naked as the day he was born, pissing against a tree trunk.

“You’re awake!” Thor said. “I thought you’d still be asleep for hours yet. You scholars don’t know anything about rising with the dawn…”

“Get over here,” Loki said, trying not to let his voice shake with the relief he felt. “And I’ll show you a thing or two about _rising_. Why are you naked, anyway?”

“Our clothes are a little...unfresh.” Thor finished his business and turned around to find Loki staring at him. “What? You like what you see, huh?” He struck a saucy pose, his hand on his hip and one leg flung out dramatically and Loki guffawed.

“Oh what, that’s not good enough for you? What about this?” and he flexed ridiculously, “or this?” and he simpered a bit, “or maybe this?” and he started swinging his hips in a circle until his cock was spinning around as well, and Loki collapsed backwards in a gale of laughter.

Thor wasn’t gone. Thor wasn’t gone.

“Get over here, you ass,” Loki gasped, and Thor came over to lay on top of him, burying his face in Loki’s neck again.

“You always smell so good,” he said.

“We both smell like woodsmoke and you know it.” Loki twined his arms around Thor’s neck and kissed his cheek. “And morning breath.”

“Maybe we should bathe first,” Thor said, sitting back on his heels.

“Fuck bathing,” Loki growled, and pulled Thor on top of him again.

This time Loki brought Thor off with his hand and Thor came with his arms wrapped around him tightly, biting Loki’s shoulder so hard he left teeth marks. And then, surprisingly, amazingly, Thor shucked Loki’s pants down and took him in his mouth and Loki nearly spent immediately from the utter shock of it.

“I thought you had left this morning,” Loki said, carding his fingers into Thor’s hair and drawing him up for a kiss afterwards. _Left **me** ,_ he thought, unspoken.

“I would never.” Thor rocked their foreheads together and kissed Loki on the tip of his nose. A ribbon of pleasure and relief unfurled all the way down to his toes.

He couldn’t help prodding though. “No regrets, then?”

“Not a single one.”

They bathed in the river, washing their clothes and their teeth, and Loki dried them off with a wave of his hand. Thor’s hair puffed up for a moment as the spell moved over him, like a cat’s hackles rising, and Loki grinned with helpless fondness.

Norns, he was turning sentimental.

“We should actually do some hunting today,” Thor said, tying the last pack shut. “Else we’ll run out of provisions.”

“I wish we could just stay by the river and laze and swim and…” Loki trailed off. _And share kisses as long and warm as a summer’s day, and come undone in each other’s arms_ , he might have said if he knew how to articulate what was in his heart. He still wasn’t used to even thinking about, much less speaking out loud the thing that was growing between them.

“I know,” Thor said, coming over and tilting Loki’s chin up for a kiss. “I as well.”

Loki clutched onto Thor’s tunic for a moment, almost dizzy suddenly as the full force of their current situation hit him all at once.

“Just hold me for a moment,” he said softly, pressing his cheek into Thor’s shoulder.

They followed the river past the forest’s edge and into the shady undergrowth. Loki wasn’t much of a tracker, so he followed along as silently as possible as Thor cast around for signs of quarry worth following.

“Here,” Thor said finally. “A deer. That should feed us for a few days. Do you want to wait here, or come with me?”

“You mean it’ll feed you for two meals, you glutton. I’ll come with you.” The last thing he wanted right now was to be alone.

Thor flashed him a smile and cupped his cheek briefly before starting off again.

This casual affection left Loki fluttery and almost anxious. He loved it, but it was so dangerous...so easy to slip into it...he wondered how they would keep it secret once they returned to Asgard. Asgard with its watcher, and their parents, and Thor’s halfwitted friends, and all the servants in the palace that had been scurrying under his and Thor’s feet literally since they were born and probably knew their habits better than they themselves knew them...

He suddenly wished they could go anywhere else. Midgard, maybe. Where nobody had any idea who they were, and they could hole up in some little hut and scare away the local villagers with witchcraft, and love each other in peace.

Thor moved silently ahead of him and Loki tried to concentrate on just following him and staying in the present moment. The present moment was good. Wonderful, even.

There would be time enough to worry about the future later. Don’t let it infect the now.

It was quiet here under the trees. They towered above them, oak and maple and ash and some species specific only to Vanaheim whose names Loki didn’t know. Energy thrummed around them, verdant and expansive, the banked sleepy consciousness of old growth that had existed before they were born and would endure after they were gone. It helped, actually, made him feel smaller, like his problems were less significant. He wondered if Thor could feel it.

Maybe they could just stay here, live and rut like beasts in the woods until the forest claimed them for itself.

Thor turned slightly and put his finger to his lips, then crept to the edge of a small clearing. A doe stood in the middle of it, her graceful neck curved down to nibble at the high grass. Slowly, so slowly, Thor drew the bow from his back and nocked an arrow.

Loki heard a rustling behind him. It barely registered at first, but Thor was whipping around with a horrified expression on his face, so Loki threw himself sideways and twisted around as well and narrowly missed being gored by the most enormous boar he had ever seen.

Knives materialized in his hands and he threw them one after another after another. They seemed to bounce off the creature’s thick hide, but it was enough distraction that Thor had time to toss his pack and the bow to the side and pull out his sword. With a roar, he leaped onto the beast’s back and drove the sword deep into its neck, dark blood fountaining out and coating both of them, matting its coarse hair into black clumps.

The boar squealed, high pitched and horrible, and began bucking so violently that Thor was tossed like a rag doll. It wheeled around to charge Thor’s prone form and desperately Loki cast an illusion of himself over to the side, hoping to draw the beast’s attention. The ruse worked and Loki’s seeming dissolved as the boar rushed through it.

Thor was struggling to his feet now, to Loki’s overwhelming relief.

The boar was staggering now, reeling from blood loss, but madness had gripped it and it prepared to charge again.

“Thor!” Loki cried.

Thor shook his head, clearly dazed. The beast was nearly upon him, seconds away from trampling him under its razor sharp hooves, and with a scream Loki launched himself at its eyes, knives an extension of his hands, and his arms rose and fell over and over until he found himself collapsed over the boar’s blood-coated flank, its last breath rattling out in a gentle gust.

“ _Norns_ ,” Thor half laughed, bent over leaning his weight on his thighs. “That was…”

“A shock?” Loki said. He rolled weakly onto his back.

“Your scream -” Thor started, waving his hand and starting to giggle.

“The way you flew through the air -” Loki gasped, starting to giggle himself. “You should have seen it.” He flailed his arms in crazy windmills and made an exaggerated O with his mouth, and Thor sat down hard, laughing until tears streamed down his face.

Loki slid off the boar and crawled over to him and they collapsed in a bloody hysterical heap, both of them laughing until their stomachs ached.

“We’ll eat well tonight,” Thor said finally. “Camp now?”

“Ymir’s balls, _yes_.”

Butchering the boar took the rest of the morning. They weren't far from the stream, which had slowed to a rocky trickle at this point, but it was enough to scrub themselves clean after they were done. Thor had one long gash over his right eyebrow that Loki flushed out the best he could.

“Looks like it might rain. We'd better use the tent this time,” Thor said, hands on his hips and looking at the sky through the canopy of leaves.

“And have the clouds themselves told you this?” Loki asked, sliding his arm around Thor's waist. “It's a gorgeous day.”

“Sometimes lately I just know,” Thor shrugged. “Can't you feel it?”

“No,” Loki admitted. “Can't you feel this?” He twisted his wrist and an emerald green snake appeared twined around Thor's arm.

Thor chuckled and shook his arm and the illusion dissolved.

“No. But I can see it.”

“And I can see the sky, which is currently both devoid of rain clouds and obnoxiously blue.”

“I'm setting the tent up anyway,” Thor said, pinching Loki's ass as he walked away and making him squeak.

The boar smelled delicious as it sizzled on the spit, the fat crackling and dripping into the fire. Loki obstinately set his bedroll on the ground outside the tent, giving Thor a pointed look before laying out on it.

“Move over, you,” Thor said, nudging at Loki with his foot, and Loki obliged with minimal grumbling.

Loki had just started to doze against Thor's chest when a soft voice roused him. He realized Thor was singing, his gentle baritone rising and falling with the melody of an old hunting song.

Thor had a lovely singing voice but he almost never used it. Loki held his breath, wanting to hear every burr and rasp of his brother's voice, not wanting to disturb whatever fragile equilibrium had brought this on.

A drinking song came next, normally a boisterous tune, but Thor sang it almost mournfully; then a lullaby; and finally a love song, only he changed every “she" to a “he" and kissed the top of Loki's head at the end of it.

“You knew I was awake,” Loki said.

“Mmm. I did.”

Loki burrowed further into his chest. “I think the boar is done.”

They ate hungrily after the morning's exertions, picking the bones clean and licking their fingers and washing it down with a flask of mead.

Thor had been right, damn him, and the afternoon started growing dark hours early as the breeze picked up and gray clouds moved in, the smell of imminent rain in the air.

Loki dragged his bedroll inside just in time as the first fat droplets started falling.

“Told you,” Thor said good naturedly, knocking against his shoulder, and Loki couldn't muster up the necessary ire to push him off.

Thor had left the flap open and they sat shoulder to shoulder, their knees drawn up, watching the steady drip of water fall across the opening, watching the leaves outside shiver under each tiny concussion, everything two shades brighter green than it had been fifteen minutes ago.

The patter of raindrops on the roof of the tent was soothing, almost hypnotizing.

Loki couldn't remember ever feeling happier.

Thor leaned over and kissed his neck. Loki drew his face up with one soft finger tip on his jaw and kissed the corner of his mouth while Thor smiled.

“Let's stay here forever,” Loki whispered.

“Ok,” Thor said, kissing his cheeks, his mouth. “Ok.”

They melted down into their nest of blankets, kissing, devouring each other sweetly, running their hands down flanks, over the round curve of buttocks.

“I want get a proper look at you,” Thor said, ducking his head slightly in what Loki could only interpret as shyness.

“You've seen me before.”

“Not like this. Not when it's...for me.”

Loki shivered at the roughness in Thor's voice, at the eagerness of his hands as he helped remove all the offensive clothing standing between them.

He was right, it _was_ different. They'd bathed together countless times in the past, changed in front of each other even more times than that, but inexplicably Loki fought the urge to cover himself with his hands. He was sure he was blushing.

Last night and this morning had been fumbling, rushed. This was slower, somehow both more clear-headed and yet deeper, like they were being pulled under a current far too strong to swim against. Loki felt it in himself and he saw it in Thor’s eyes; read it in his hands; felt it in the trembling of lips and limbs moving sweetly against his own.

Loki felt his own soul expanding as the world narrowed to this tiny bubble of warmth and love in the rainy forest. It was a wonder such a small tent could hold all of him, all of them. It seemed laughably inadequate to the task.

When they could hold back no longer, he clenched his thighs together and Thor thrust between them, sliding against his most tender and secret places. It was thrilling and wonderful.

“Brother,” Loki exhaled, pulling Thor’s earlobe between his teeth. Thor shuddered and rained kisses on his face, Loki’s own personal storm.

Loki’s cock was trapped between them building up delicious friction and he spilled first, painting their chests with his seed. Thor held him through it, murmuring sweet words in his ear, then drove between his thighs with a furious intensity that had him shouting his pleasure into Loki’s neck as he came between his legs.

It all felt so right. Why hadn’t they been doing this for the last century at the very least?

They kissed for a long time afterwards, in between soft words and lilting laughter.

At one point Thor pulled back, his face serious, and ran his thumb along Loki’s kiss-swollen lips.

“I would have you,” he said. “If...if you would let me.”

“I would. And I...I would have you too. If you would…”

“I would, I would.” Thor was devouring him again, pulling him closer with one hand tangled in his hair, running it down to haul him in by the waist.

Loki wanted to laugh with joy, to burst free from his body and take flight.

He loved Thor and Thor loved him, _wanted_ him, and all was right in the world.

“Have you ever…?” Thor asked.

“Not...with a man.”

“Nor I.”

“We’ll be each other’s first then.” Loki couldn’t help the smile that split his face.

Thor smiled back and he wasn’t the storm, he was the sunshine parting the clouds, he was the rainbow at storm’s end.

They stayed at the new campsite for the next three days. They feasted on the boar they had brought down together and they feasted on each other as well. 

The first time he and Thor joined together was halting, uncomfortable at first, but he was determined to give himself to Thor in this way so he clenched his jaw until the pain turned into pleasure. Thor was so concerned that he almost couldn’t go through with it, afraid that he was hurting Loki too much, but Loki clutched him to his breast and growled in his ear.

“Don’t you dare,” he said. “Don’t you fucking stop now, I’ll never forgive you.”

When Thor found the little bundle of nerves inside him he surprised himself with the strength of his own cries.

Thor’s body was more welcoming than Loki’s had been, opening up so sweetly beneath Loki’s ministrations that it was like it had been made for him. He took Thor from behind, running his hands over the perfect globes of Thor’s buttocks, the dimples at the base of his spine, his broad shoulders, and Thor bucked back into him with guttural moans and grunts that lit Loki’s blood on fire.

“Ahhh, right there,” Thor groaned as Loki fisted his hand in that golden hair and tugged backwards. “Right...there...right...ahhh.”

Mostly, though, they loved each other with hands and mouths and slicked thighs, with thoughtful deeds and words as sweet as honey. And with ridiculous antics as well, and good natured teasing, for they never could resist poking fun at each other.

They broke camp on the second to last day, packing their things and smoothing out the traces of their campsite.

“Let’s find something with a view,” Loki said.

They hiked along the stream until it emptied into a lake. It was so large that they could scarcely see the opposite shore, and ringed all around with willows drooping gracefully to weep their sorrows into the sparkling water.

“Here,” Loki said decisively.

A melancholy had seized him, knowing it was their last day, and he felt a certain kinship with the willows as they set up camp.

“I want you to take me,” Loki said, turning to Thor suddenly, desperately. “Now. Until I forget my own name. Please.”

It was easier this time, and for a small brief eternity Loki did forget his own name. But he remembered Thor’s, crying it out as came and came.

“Don’t cry,” Thor said sadly. He rubbed at Loki’s tears with his thumbs. “Don’t cry.”

“I didn’t know I was,” Loki said, burying his face in Thor’s neck as Thor drove into him one more time.

Loki built the fire up later while Thor wandered over to sit on a rocky outcropping at the edge of the lake with his legs dangling. The sun was beginning to set and tonight it painted the sky in stripes of blue and violet and pale pink, coloring the high stippled clouds. The lake was perfectly still and reflected the entire thing like a mirror, Thor’s silhouette dark against all the bright color.

Loki finished and came to sit next to him, leaning his head on Thor’s shoulder.

“What will we do when we get home?”

“I don’t know.” Thor huffed a short mirthless laugh. “Go on a lot of hunting trips.” He put his arm around Loki.

Loki felt his mouth twist downward.

“The ceremony is next week,” he said, changing topics. “I know father is very excited about his magic hammer choosing somebody, but I confess I can’t make myself feel that enthusiastic about it.”

Thor’s own mouth twisted downward.

“I don’t understand it,” he said. “If we are both meant to rule, then why is he forcing this upon us? It can only divide us.”

“Father always knows best,” Loki said in a mocking tone. Then, more seriously, “We won’t let inanimate objects divide us, will we?”

Thor gave him a squeeze. “Never.”

Loki slept poorly that night. He wrapped himself around Thor’s back, trying to memorize every detail of the way their bodies felt pressed together to hoard in his memory against the coming months of famine.

“I miss you already,” he whispered into the dark. “I’ll see you every day and I’ll miss you so terribly I wonder if I’ll survive it.”

They packed up in silence the next morning and then stood there locked together for long minutes, wordless and aching.

The hike out of the trees seemed shorter than the hike in had been, or maybe it was just that when something dreadful is coming time seems to speed up. All too soon, they were back into the grassy hills. They had seemed so rich before, full of promise, but now they were dull and flat, uninspired.

“Wait,” Loki said at the edge of the trees, grabbing for Thor’s hand. “Kiss me one more time.”

Thor’s lips crashed into his, desperate, and it wasn’t enough, it would never be enough, he would always want more.

Loki tore himself away and stumbled out of the forest, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand and blinking back tears.

“Heimdall!” he called out. “Heimdall! Bring us home!”

The sky cracked open and the Bifrost appeared to hurl them back to Asgard.

When they landed in the observatory, Loki’s eyes were clear.


End file.
